Not Another Love Story
by DanikaLareyna
Summary: COMPLETE. An exercise in evil.


Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.

This story is dedicated to Bats.

**Not Another Love Story**

Danika Lareyna

He knew the moment she entered his realm. And how could he not? He had been... no, not pining, for he was the Goblin King and such a weak emotion was below him, but he had been longing for her. Deeply, deeply longing for her. He would find himself staring into the dull, blank eyes of his subjects as if, should he look hard enough, he would see that spark, that fire that had danced in her eyes. It was that fire that drew his heart, a moth to its flame. It was that fire that, in the end, burned him so cruelly.

And yet, he could feel her presence. In fact... Jareth stood from his throne and glanced out the wide window that faced the Goblin City, being careful to remain far enough back that he could see without being seen.

There she was, standing just before the large fountain in front of the castle gates. Her hair had grown even longer in the years since he had last seen her. It fell to the small of her back, now, straight, dark and shining. She wore a gown of white, similar to the one she had dressed herself in to recite lines in the park, so long ago, only more elegant and suited to her now mature body. Its simple, clean lines, emphasized what a fine body that was; its long skirt trailed on the ground behind her. Her face was as enchantingly beautiful as he remembered, unmarked, despite the passing years.

And it was turned up to look at his window, as if she knew that he hid there, watching her.

Jareth hesitated. Though few would disagree that he was normally self assured to a fault, he now found himself uncertain how to react to Sarah's sudden, unexpected appearance. He could neither comprehend the how nor the why of her return to his realm, and he dared not allow himself hope. He did not blame her for their last confrontation, he could never dream to stay angry with his Sarah, but he did not believe that his fragile heart could survive another encounter.

She called out to him, her voice low and sweet, with almost a hint of mockery to it. "Jareth? Will you not come down and speak with me?" The Goblin King drew a ragged breath, snugged his black, leather gloves and went to her. He could never resist; not when Sarah called him.

She stood motionless by the fountain, forcing him to approach her, though by rights it should have been the other way around, but her sparkling, green eyes- ah, there was the fire!- drew him on. He stopped farther from her than necessary, clenching his hands futilely but unable to bring himself to step closer. Her cruel eyes filled with laughter. "Sarah," he said, cursing himself for the wistfulness in his voice, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled, a small twist of her full lips, as she stepped close to him. Very close. Jareth froze and felt his palms grow sweaty as she stood near enough that her breasts almost brushed him as she breathed and her hypnotic eyes stared up at him from beneath dark, thick lashes. "Jareth," she purred, sending shivers down his spine, "Surely you must know how much I have missed the Labyrinth? How much my soul has cried out for this place?" She drew a deep breath and Jareth could feel the velvet of her dress against his bare skin where his shirt hung open, "For you?"

He tried to form some response to her statement, but words escaped him. He could feel her warm breath on his jaw, smell the fresh scent of her hair, see the anticipation in her expression as she waited for his answer. Hope, traitorous hope, blossomed in his heart. At last, he spoke the one word that maintained any meaning to him. "Sarah..."

That simple response seemed to satisfy her. A brilliant smile lit upon her face and she lifted one hand to gently stroke his cheek. Her skin was so soft, her touch so delicate, that his eyes instinctively drifted shut. She spoke faintly, a teasing echo of his own insufficient utterance. "Jareth..."

And then, to his immense surprise, she was kissing him.

Her small, supple body pressed tightly against his own. Her hand came to rest at the base of his neck, her fingers twining in his pale hair. Her lips, hot and eager, destroyed any meager remains of rational thought left in him. As he kissed her back, the Goblin King knew magic and joy such as he had never before dared to dream.

And then, he felt the knife go in.

White hot agony pierced him as if she had torn his flesh not with a dagger but a live wire, sending bolts of lightning coursing through his nerves to his brain, the tips of his fingers, even down to his toes. He staggered back, one hand falling to the small blade, still embedded in his side, the other reaching toward her, pleading. She stared at him, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Sarah," he gasped, "Why?"

"Oh, Jareth," she sneered, tilting her chin up regally, "You didn't really think a young girl could like a repulsive, little scab like you, did you?" She laughed harshly as the irony of the statement sunk into his pain-seared mind. "Of course I came back!" she exclaimed, "How could I not? How could I watch you, high and mighty ruler of this entire world, able to wield power humans can only dream of. And what do you do with it? Steal babies!" She spat at him but he was only vaguely aware of it hitting his face. "It's not _you_ I want, _Goblin King_," she continued, speaking his title as if it were a foul oath, "It's your power." She was walking past him, towards his castle. He tried to follow her movement, but seemed to have lost the ability to control his body. "And I'll have it, too," he heard from over his shoulder, and then her small hands were on his back, shoving him.

He could feel his skull crack as it impacted with the side of the fountain, but the pain of it was a minor underscore to the anguish in his side. It was too much. Too intense for such a small wound. Unless...

Cold iron.

The girl had brought a blade of cold iron so that she could be certain to finish the job. Jareth clenched his teeth to prevent the moan of dismay building within him. There would be no surviving this. Silently, he willed the suffering to sweep consciousness from him, but he was not to be that fortunate. He could not be certain if it was carelessness on her part, or a deliberate desire to prolong his suffering, but her dagger had missed all vitals. It was not the wound that would kill him, but the slow misery of iron poisoning.

The Goblin King's torture had only begun.

As it happened, he landed with his back to the fountain, in a limp sitting position. His head was tilted back against the rim and, though streams of blood ran from his wounded skull into his left eye, he was still unwilling witness to Sarah's further crimes.

"Ludo!" she called, striding confidently towards to castle. "Bar the gate! Don't let anyone out! Didymus, where are you?" Around her, goblins were pouring out of their homes in the city, staring in confusion and horror at the scene before them. A cry was raised from far down one of the narrow streets, swiftly growing louder until, scattering goblin bodies as he came, the fox knight burst into the square.

"Here I am, my lady!" he exclaimed, tugging harshly on the reins so that his canine mount reared, raking at the sky with his claws. Then Didymus spun back to the goblins, striking at them not with a flimsy stick but with his dreaded sword, the one Jareth had thought safely buried away in an oubliette. Effortlessly, the knight cut down goblin man, woman and child, even as they cried out for mercy. Screaming in terror, they fled him, reminded again of why the diminutive being was the most dreaded warrior in all of the Labyrinth, banished to the Bog of Eternal Stench for his crimes. With a laugh, the fox charged down another street, chasing down further victims.

Hoggle was there, too, his poison working as well on goblins as it did fairies. A quick spray to the face and the helpless goblin fell, twitching and paralyzed, to the street. From there, it was quick work for the dwarf to take his sturdy knife to them, slashing open their throat or gut as the whim took him, giggling wickedly under his breath. Streams of blood followed him as he made his way patiently through the city, checking each ramshackle hut for survivors.

She had come prepared, Jareth thought, unable to think badly of her, even now. She had even recruited the Fireys, he realized as three of them cavorted around a corner and into his line of sight. To the fallen king's dismay, a small goblin ran straight into the trio as it dashed in a panic from the other direction. Laughing madly and calling to each other, they captured him. One each grabbed his legs while the third took his head and they heaved. The goblin screamed and Jareth willed himself to close his eyes, but even this small mercy was beyond his power now. There was one last high-pitched shriek and a horrific tearing sound as a splash of sticky goblin entrails splattered against the Goblin King's face, mingling with his own blood and Sarah's saliva. As the Fireys frolicked away, he could see one of them trying on the gory, disembodied head of their prey, seeming disappointed when it only rolled flaccidly from his shoulders to thud against the cobblestones.

It was not a war. It was not a battle. It was a massacre. Despite his own blinding agony, Jareth's soul cried out in pain for his poor, pathetic minions. Surely it must end soon. Surely she could not do anything worse than the carnage he was being forced to witness.

"Now, Ludo!" her triumphant voice rang out.

"Sawah..."

"_Now_!" she demanded, her voice rising to echo around the square, littered with goblin corpses.

The beast was out of Jareth's line of sight, but he could hear it throw back its head and howl, more mournfully than he had ever done before. Despite the trauma in his body and mind, Jareth found it within himself to be surprised when he felt, not the rumble of massive boulders, rolling under their own power through the Goblin City, but a shudder from deep within the ground. Puzzled, he attempted to turn his head, trying to locate the source of the ominous thunder. He was unable and, as it happened, did not need to. The quaking grew heavier until the entire city seemed to shake and then Jareth realized that it was his castle.

Even as comprehension hit, the castle shifted. From within the structure, the appalled cries of goblins split the air. A few of the braver ones threw themselves from the windows, only to plummet to their doom. The piercing howl of the beast rose up again and, before Jareth's eyes, the foundation stones of his home heaved and tore themselves apart. The Castle Beyond the Goblin City crumbled inwards, crushing countless goblins trapped within.

As the dust and debris settled, Jareth found Sarah standing before him. The bottom of her pure, white dress was soaked through with blood, almost up to her hips. Her hair stood out around her, a wild woman. She met his gaze and the fire he so loved in her eyes was a raging inferno of madness. A wind swept around her, tugging at cloth, hair and sending the last remaining particles of his kingdom swirling about her. Just as the agony of the poisonous iron in his side at last swept consciousness from him, Jareth attempted to speak. His mouth formed the words, though he no longer had the breath to utter them, "All... hail... the... queen..."

Sarah Williams threw her head back and laughed.


End file.
